The Anglo-American Pride
by TomatoChild
Summary: All he wanted was someone to shower with love. The new guy felt the same. Just who is this cranky Brit, anyway?


Alfred Jones was not your average American. Okay, sure, he could be rather loud and obnoxious. Yet, his family was one of the most welcoming ones in the country.

His mother, a blonde lady with vibrant blue eyes, was one of the few who gave a dollar or two to any homeless people she saw on the street; gave whatever food she had with her at the time; gave the coat on her back or an umbrella she had with her, depending on the weather. People like her didn't come very often.

His father? Well, Alfred knew little to nothing about the mysterious man. Only that he walked out on them after the youngest in the family was conceived.

His sister, Amelia, was very much like himself. Almost as if he had a female version of himself. Then again, they _were_ twins, so it wasn't too much of a shocker. She seemed to always have a smile on her face. She was the spitting image of her mother, though her hair was shorter.

His younger brother, Matthew, couldn't be more different than Alfred. For one, Matthew inherited his violet eyes from his father. While Alfred was outgoing, courageous, and social, Matthew was the more reserved type. He preferred staying indoors to going outside and acting like a fool around the neighbors. He couldn't help it; he'd always been that way. He was also a "Mommy's Boy," and Alfred never failed to tease him about it.

Alfred Jones? Well, he was no role model, that's for sure. He didn't exactly have the best grades, he didn't get along with his teachers very much, as he _was_ a class clown, after all, and he didn't quite win the hearts of those around him. Now sure, many girls had crushes on him, but he turned them all down. He didn't mean to hurt any of them, but he also didn't want to lead them on. He would often get death glares from the guys, because of the female attention he was taking away from them. Then, there was the fact that he had the tiniest of crushes on one of the most popular guys in the school, Francis Bonnefoy.

Nobody knew aside from his siblings, and there was a reason for that. He was positive that if the kids in his school found out that he liked someone of the same gender, he would never hear the end of it. Alfred wouldn't call it a crush to his siblings however.

"A strong admiration," he'd say, "Slight envy, even. But it's _not_ crush."

Alfred was determined to keep his secrets, and even if he clawed away at him from the inside out, he would find a way to hide them away deep inside. His sister didn't approve of that, and neither did Matthew.

"You shouldn't be afraid to be yourself, Alfie!" Amelia preached to him continuously, saying the same thing, more or less, each time. His brother would nod quickly, completely agreeing with that statement. After all, his brother liked men, too. Though, he wouldn't say who he liked.

"It's not as easy as you think," the eldest blonde would say, saying with exasperation.

Why don't they understand? He'd often wonder this, and many sleepless nights were spent just planning how to act around everyone the next day. How to act like he _wasn't_ just attracted to handsome men he'd see on the street; how to act like he _wasn't_ secretly flirting with Francis Bonnefoy in algebra class third period. It sure was tiring.

Sometimes, all Alfred Jones wanted was someone who he could shower with love. He'd never tell this to anyone though, for fear of them calling him girly. He wanted to be their hero, to be able to just be there for them when they needed someone.

Obviously, Francis was out of the question; he was only in to girls, right? That's how it seemed to Alfred, anyway. The French man was always surrounded by, and flirting with females. It was clear that he was a lady's man. A player, some would say, since he went through girlfriends as fast as Alfred went through burgers. Alfred couldn't stand players.

Sure, the all-American boy had broken his fair share of hearts, but it wasn't because there was someone new to play with. No, it was because he was waiting for the right person. None of the girls who had asked him out caught his eye – not that he was shallow – and he just didn't want to pretend that he was in to them just to make them happy. Didn't a relationship require both people to be happy and in love? At least, that was Alfred's idea of the perfect relationship. Not just some fling in which it's one-sided, and the other person ends up with a broken heart. Another thing that bothered Alfred Jones was how kids his age and younger tended to overuse the word "love." He, however, had decided a very long time ago that he'd only say it to the person he was sure he'd spend the rest of his life with. That was the one promise to himself he intended to keep.

Unlike his other promises, such as the one where he promised his mother he'd cut down on the junk food. Honestly, he knew from the start that he would break that promise not even ten minutes after. His mother had been disappointed, but not all too surprised in the end. After all, her son had what some might call an addiction to sweets. Alfred wouldn't be able to cut cold turkey. He had been found attempting to hide away in the pantry while nibbling on a Snackers bar. Needless to say, Alfred couldn't change his ways _that_ easily.

Then, there was the promise he made to his sister; the one where he swore he'd tell Amelia as soon as he saw the one he knew would be his true love. He hadn't broken that one, yet. He wasn't about to, either. Alfred was sure he'd go on nonstop about the wonderful person he'd be able to call his love.

What he didn't know was how close to catching a glimpse of the mystical thing called "love" he was.

* * *

It was a normal morning for Alfred Jones. Been woken up late by his little brother, having breakfast in the car with his sister as they were all packed into the small Kia that their mother owned, and being dropped off in front of the school just as the tardy bell rang, resulting in them bolting to their lockers, and afterwards, homerooms. Seems normal enough, right? Not quite. Something felt off to Alfred, yet he couldn't place his finger on it.

As he burst into homeroom, hair and clothes disheveled, he interrupted someone's speech. While out of breath, he muttered an apology to the irritated teacher and the young man in the front of the classroom. Alfred got to his seat in the back and slid into it, depositing his leather messenger bag under his desk. He quickly combed through his blonde hair, trying unsuccessfully to smooth down the ever-present cowlick on the top of his head, and tried to listen to what the new face had to say.

The teacher, Mr. Ludwig, let out a sigh and motioned for the young man to continue.

He, the new guy, cleared his throat and started over. "As I was saying, my name is Arthur Kirkland. I'll be your new classmate." With a grin, Alfred noted the British accent that the kid had. It was so interesting; he could listen to it forever. His bright, shimmering grassy green eyes were a whole other story. They shone with irritation, but Alfred didn't seem to notice. He was now too focused on the thick eyebrows that the Brit wore.

"Class, I expect you to treat your new classmate with respect," Ludwig said, and then seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. "Arthur, why don't you take the seat in the back next to Mr. Jones? All other seats seem to be taken." Arthur was prepared to ask just who that was, but seeing as how it was the only empty seat in the small classroom, it wasn't too hard to spot.

He did as told and eased into the plastic chair, well aware of the American next to him and his staring.

"Yes?" He finally asked, turning to the other boy. Said boy blinked in surprised.

"Hey dude! My name's Alfred." Alfred then held out a hand for Arthur to take, and the other male shook it gingerly.

"I see," he said, before asking the question in his mind. "Is there a reason for your staring?"

This embarrassed Alfred. _Was it really that obvious?_ "Oh! Uh, sorry!" He said quickly, drawing back his hand. "I've just never met a British person before." And it evidently shows, he thought glumly. _I must look like a total loser to him right now. _

Arthur turned back to the front of the classroom, his hands now interlocked on his desk. He was the image of the perfect student, and Alfred could tell that he most likely was. "Well, now you have. Lucky you."

"Hey, d'you think we could be friends, Arthur?"

Rather shocked, Arthur's eyes widened. Just what was with this American? "But we've only just met!"

"So? We could start off as acquaintances!" He'd chirped happily, a bit too loudly, as that earned him a glare from the teacher.

"You're… mad," Arthur said finally, after a while of searching for the right word. It sure was hard to describe someone like Alfred Jones.

"So, friends?" Alfred beamed over at him, and Arthur didn't understand why the simple look sent warmth flowing throughout his body.

"Acquaintances," he corrected, turning away to hide his burning cheeks. He felt so embarrassed all of a sudden, and it was something he hadn't felt in quite a while. How long has it been since someone made him feel this way?

His embarrassment only furthered when he heard Alfred punch the air, and shout: "ALRIGHT!" This earned him a detention and a good scolding from Mr. Ludwig. The scene actually made Arthur crack a smile.

_Maybe this crazy American won't be as bad as the rest._

* * *

**HEY, LOOK AT THAT. I ACTUALLLY UPDATED. Guys, I'm sorry if this has a bunch of typos and grammar mistakes. I tried to correct as many as I could, but I'm pretty sure I missed a bunch. This looks like it was rushed. Gomen. ;u; **

**AGGGHH. LOOK AT THEM. THEY'RE SO OOC. AND FRUS? I should be arrested. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**


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